


you know you can follow my voice

by societysgot



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Discussion of feelings, F/M, archie singing to betty in the bunker, cheating but not really, post 4x17, slowburn babies, this is inspired by the stills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23713627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/societysgot/pseuds/societysgot
Summary: “It’s not fair because…,” Her voice trembled, emotions threatening to overwhelm her, “Because I wanted you. God, I wanted you so much..."—or where betty and archie contemplate their next steps in the bunker
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Comments: 14
Kudos: 109





	you know you can follow my voice

**Author's Note:**

> okay so i'm still processing 4x17 i mean.....barchies we really won.....??? like that musical episode was everything i wanted and more and the barchie scenes had me dead. so,, i decided to write a oneshot of what i predict may happen next episode....
> 
> any comments/kudos are greatly appreciated. thank you <3

The light coming from the bunker bounced off the walls of the tunnel as she slid off the ladder. Betty could just make out the figure inside. Archie was sitting on the bed, with his back to her. She tentatively stepped in, and he turned around almost immediately, surprise laced in his features. 

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

Her eyes met his, slowly. She smiled. “I changed my mind.”

“Oh…”

He was staring at her now, with such warmth, such tenderness, she felt her heart leap into her throat. She swallowed, trying to calm her heart rate which was beating wildly. They stood in comfortable silence for a moment before, her gaze moved past him, her noticing his guitar lying on the bed beside him. 

“You brought your guitar?”

“I was just…practising some stuff, you know,” He said, sheepishly, looking anywhere but her.

She sat down in a chair facing him, smiling. She had always loved when played. When she glanced up again she noticed a few loose pieces of paper beside him, messy handwriting scrawled all over them. 

“Are those…lyrics?” A small smile snaked its way onto her face as she leaned forward slightly to get a better look. 

“What— no.” His cheeks were flaming, as he shoved the loose papers further behind him.

“Arch, are you writing songs again?” She questioned, almost teasingly, her eyebrows raised. 

“Okay,” He relented, his lips curving into a shy smile, “Maybe a bit.”

“You haven’t written in years, why the sudden need to now?” She laughed, her arms crossed in front of her. 

“I don’t know — inspiration, I guess.” 

But when she glanced up, he was looking at her — like really looking at her and the room around them fell away. Her smile faltered slightly, as she tried to calm the feelings pulsing through her. 

“Can I hear it?” The words came out tentative and shy, as she dragged the chair a little bit closer.

She could tell he was embarrassed, as he ran a hand through his hair, nervously. But nevertheless, he nodded and began to play. The acoustic sound was soft and comforting, just like him, his voice flowing effortlessly over the chords. He was barely a third of the way through when she felt herself start to clamp up. 

She knew it was about her. She didn’t know how she knew — she just did. When he was reaching the end of the second verse, a lump in her throat started to form, a ringing sound in her ears, tears fogging her vision. She flashbacked to sophomore year, on the bleachers next to the football field — his singing, her sobs, him running after her. It was all too much at once. The tears were escaping her rapidly now so much so that she didn’t even realise he had stopped playing. The guitar lay down abandoned beside him as he moved closer to her, concern in his eyes. 

“Betty—”

She stood up and stepped backwards, desperately trying to pull herself together. 

  
“No, Arch, y-you don’t get to do this now. It’s _not_ fair,” She said, her arms out in front of her as he stepped closer.

“Please, Betty, just—”

“It’s not fair because…,” Her voice trembled, emotions threatening to overwhelm her, “Because I wanted you. God, I wanted you so much…and you…”

“I screwed up, I know, I was selfish and stupid but—“

“You didn’t want me, Arch,” She said breathlessly, “You didn’t want me like that and now…now you do? Why? Why now?”

“The timing is shit, Betty, I realise that but—”

“Because I moved on….I did — I had to, and I have Jughead now…and you…you have Veronica…”

  
“I know and I never meant to hurt them,” He was saying, desperately, his eyes locked on hers, “But when I’m with you I can’t help but want…I can’t help the way I feel, Betty, I think I lo-”

“Please don’t say it.”

“You have to let me—”

“No, I—”

Their faces were inches apart, his eyes brimming with emotion. He was so close, Betty could feel his breathe on her cheek, count the freckles on his nose, see the small scar just above his eyebrow. She could still remember when he got that. 10 years ago — they had been riding their bikes down a steep hill. He had skidded over an uneven patch of footpath. Betty had cried all afternoon, sick with worry. When he returned to her later that day, with only stitches and a warm smile, she had felt as though everything was right and good in the world again. As their foreheads touched and he laced his fingers through hers, she closed her eyes, years of memories cascading through her and threatening to overflow. She wanted to melt into him, his touch, his taste. She wished she could hide out here with him forever. 

“We can’t do this, Arch,” She breathed quietly, after a moment of them both standing very still, his arms around her waist, their noses almost brushing against each other. 

Before he opened his mouth to reply, she was already speaking again.

“I think…I think we should stay away from each other for a while.” She had attempted to sound stern but the words left her wobbly and uncertain. It pained her to say them at all. 

He looked up at her, eyes pleading. She wanted to hold him and never let go.

“Betty, I don’t know if I can do that—”

“We have to _try_. We can’t do this to them — no matter what we want,” She said more resolutely, this time, ignoring her heart breaking inside her chest. 

“What do _you_ want, Betty?”

“I…” He was tracing circles on the palm of her hand, filling up the space between them with his love, his longing. 

She finally looked up at him, gripping his hand tightly in her own. She tried to ignore the tug in her chest when she saw how perfectly her hand seem to slip into his, and how right it felt. 

“Arch, I…” She sighed, slowly, “I have to go.”

“No, you don’t,” He whispered, his dark eyes boring into hers, before flickering down to her lips.

  
“I really do. Jughead will be wondering where I am…I’m sure Veronica’s looking for you too…”

He looked down at that, guilt filling his expression. They stared at each other for a moment longer before Betty gently pulled his hand close to her mouth, pressing a light kiss on his palm. Before he could look at her again, she turned slowly and walked away. She knew if she stayed any longer, she wasn’t going to be able to leave at all. She made it to the ladder, before she paused, turning back around. They shared a solemn look before she pulled herself up out of the bunker, and as soon as she was out of earshot of the boy she loved but couldn’t have, she let the tears fall freely.


End file.
